


I'm only me because of you (you know me better than I do)

by McRololo



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, One-Shot, not fully established but heavily leaning to the ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:47:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28440081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McRololo/pseuds/McRololo
Summary: Beca never had the best example when it came to opening up, but there is something about Chloe that just makes it easier.
Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Comments: 12
Kudos: 70





	I'm only me because of you (you know me better than I do)

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up yesterday with a single quote stuck in my head, so naturally I had to write a whole one-shot around it. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Title from me because of you by HRVY.
> 
> You can also find me on Tumblr under the same username.

They were both nervous. The feeling swirled in between them, nagging for release, making it more and more difficult to breathe each passing second.

Honestly, Beca just wanted it to be over with.

Her dad, well. She wasn’t entirely sure about him.

He sighed, walking over to the window while pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m gonna need you to try harder.”

Her jaw dropped before she could even stop it, but whatever words wanted to tumble out thankfully clashed with what the rational side of her brain had concocted, momentarily stunning her into silence.

“It’s just one class.”

Of course he still didn’t like it. She could see it in the way he rubbed over the stubble on his chin. “You can’t just pick something to drop like a brick without consequences.”

“You mean like you did with me and mom?”

Her brain didn’t save her on that one. She immediately regretted it when his eyebrows dropped and his jaw clenched.

“Are you ever going to let me live that down?”

Beca felt the desperate no crawl up in her throat, how she wanted to scream at him that he had damaged her beyond repair, they both had, but he would call her childish, tell her to calm down or come back when she was ready to have a normal conversation, so she looked away and held her breath.

He moved back to his desk, taking a seat at the corner closest to her. “You know,” he said in that sickly sweet tone he always used when he was playing the ‘concerned father’. It felt even more out of place than normal. “I have connections to a few very good therapists. They can help-”

Beca scoffed.

He nodded his head to indicate he was waiting for more.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “You mean they’re going to ‘cure’ me from this rebellious teenage phase. Face it, dad, you don’t want to help me, you just want to control me and my life.”

She was so sick of all these people knowing what was best for her when they didn’t even know her at all.

“Beca, I-”

“No,” she said, as she got up from her seat. “Admit your mistakes.” She paused, before throwing him an arrogant smirk. “Then we can talk.”

With that, she turned and left his office, for once feeling triumphant over him.

* * *

Growing up, she never had the best example.

Beca painstakingly remembered every single fight that had kept her up past midnight, not knowing what to do. It always bled into not knowing what to say the next morning, when her dad asked her how she slept, before he snuck through the front door to leave for work.

She could never really tell if she just looked like a zombie to him or that he was fully aware how loud they had been screaming to each other.

Beca hated those sleepless nights, but she hated the aftermath the most. Her mom would always complain to her wherever and whenever she spotted Beca, and she only stopped when he made an effort to reconcile.

Unfortunately, as time went on, they continued to pick up where they left off the next night.

Beca wasn’t sure if she wanted true love if this was what it meant.

One bad night she decided to grab her earbuds and peacefully drifted to sleep to a harmony of piano and drums.

Another night she discovered mash-ups and she dreamt of weaving instruments and voices together.

Beca learned about mixing and started looking for programs to let her favorite songs join hands. She started to fall asleep to her own requests.

Long after her parents’ divorce, when Beca had decided to stay with her mom because she supported her passion, Beca finally understood that true love wasn’t always between two people.

It helped. If only a little.

* * *

Chloe was different. She had hope and optimism. The universe always seemed to work in her favor, even when it initially tried to fight her.

If you asked random people on campus if they knew Chloe Beale, they would often say yes, and then add a nice compliment on auto-pilot, as if to convince you to get to know her, too.

Beca often wondered if anyone could even think a single bad thought about Chloe or if they would simply combust on the spot. Because why would they?

Chloe was reliable, helpful, your personal cheerleader upon five minutes of knowing you, and if you said something in a group that the rest didn’t hear, she’d acknowledge your existence anyway, because Chloe had the ears of an elephant.

After Beca had shown the Bellas her equipment, Chloe started asking more questions about her mixes, practically begging to listen to them.

And, okay, aside from that one time in the shower, Beca had never felt so naked, despite Chloe not being the first person to ever listen to her garbage.

It was different from her mom smiling politely until the song ended to give her a halfhearted pat on the back and encouraging squeeze in her shoulder.

It was different from Luke tossing another one of her USBs on the pile to listen to later.

It was different from Jesse yelling to her it was good after listening for about ten seconds, before ultimately switching the topic back to movies.

They were different, because their passion wasn’t music in the same way it was to Beca, and she had been okay with that.

But Chloe? Chloe closed her eyes and bopped her head and swayed to the beat in a way Beca didn’t even need to hear the song to know exactly which part was playing. Chloe didn’t just understand Beca’s language, she spoke it right back, and all of a sudden all those compliments made so much sense.

If Beca had been the universe, she wouldn’t even dare to fight Chloe.

* * *

She did what she always did best.

With her headphones covering her ears, she laid down in an abandoned corner of the quad and pressed play. By the time the singer’s voice introduced itself, it didn’t feel like her head was resting on a set of bricks anymore.

Beca didn’t know for how long she had dozed off, but a shake to her knee made her more aware of the blades of grass tickling her forearm.

Slightly dazed, she lifted her head and blinked her eyes open, only to get immediately slaughtered by bright red hair and a sunny smile.

With a groan she covered her eyes, ripping her headphones off with her other hand. “It’s too early for you, Beale.”

Chloe giggled. “It’s almost dinnertime.” She gasped. “I knew it. You’re a vampire.”

Beca sluggishly grinned at her. “What gave it away?”

Chloe smirked, raising an eyebrow to challenge her. “You always sparkle so bright when you sit in the sun.”

Beca blinked. “What?”

“Twilight,” Chloe supplied, before dropping her smile and poking her knee again. “You weren’t at Bella practice. Everything okay?”

“Ooh, I’m sure Aubrey missed me a lot.” Beca dropped her head, but when Chloe remained silent, she looked back up to see a very pointed glare.

“Fine,” she sighed. “It’s just my dad. No big deal.”

Chloe moved to awkwardly lie next to her, except this was Chloe, so it wasn’t awkward at all. It was just very sweet.

“What about your dad?”

Beca shrugged, feeling something from her bag stab her in the shoulder. “Nothing.”

“Come on,” Chloe said, a soft smile on her features. “You don’t open up often. It’s good for you.”

Beca frowned. “Oh, okay. You want to revisit my parents’ messy divorce with me?”

“Yes.”

Chloe hadn’t even hesitated. It made forming words very difficult for Beca’s poor brain.

“Is that why you met up with him?” Chloe asked when she didn’t respond.

It was so strange to her, how willing to listen Chloe always was. To music, to lectures, to ideas - even when they were Amy’s -, to anecdotes. And now to Beca’s problems.

Maybe she was wrong. Maybe Chloe had a different passion after all.

She hesitated. “No.” And then, when she looked at encouraging blue, she continued, “I made it about that.”

“Why?”

Beca bit the inside of her cheek to keep the venom to herself. She wanted him to know how miserable he had made her mom feel, and, in turn, how miserable that made her feel. She selfishly wanted him to feel just as miserable, because that’s what he deserved after he had abandoned her like that. But nothing Beca came up with sounded like something she could say to Chloe.

Chloe moved closer, putting a hand on her bicep. It helped Beca stay grounded, but it also made her very aware of the tears now pricking in her eyes.

“Bec, it’s okay.”

She shook her head, clenching her jaw. “No, it’s not. None of it is okay.”

Sitting up, she shielded her face from Chloe by propping her elbow on her knee and pressing her knuckles to her forehead.

“He wasn’t there, he didn’t support what I wanted to do, and now I’m here and he tries to lecture me about everything all the time.”

Beca couldn’t stop herself, not even when Chloe carefully touched her back. She didn’t stop Beca either.

“Sometimes I want to go home, but then I remember there’s another broken mess waiting for me there, and I just-” She sniffed once, but the tears didn’t drop. She didn’t even register forcing them back. “I just-”

Her throat was so dry she had trouble swallowing, but she didn’t turn to grab at her bag for her bottle of water.

Chloe handed one to her instead.

Beca eyed her for a moment before slowly taking a sip. Chloe stroked her back.

“Can I say something?”

She nodded reluctantly, knowing full well she was being a brat and that she needed to get over herself. Her mom wasn’t shy in reminding her of that.

“You’re being too hard on yourself.”

Beca turned to look at Chloe and saw a shade of blue so incredibly soft and warm she momentarily forgot to exist. Beca shook her head, but Chloe’s fingers weaved through her hair to stop the movement, and Beca obliged.

“Every morning,” Chloe started. “You wake up and you raise your fists instead of opening your arms.”

Beca rolled her eyes. “I’m not like you.”

“And you don’t have to be.” Her hands dropped to Beca’s cheeks. “But do you know who the first person you see is?”

Beca arched an eyebrow. “Kimmy-jin?”

“No,” Chloe snorted. “You.”

Beca took Chloe’s hands to put them back in her lap. “Okay…?”

“Start with her,” Chloe said.

“What?”

This time Chloe rolled her eyes with a gentle smile. “Open your arms for her. You can raise your fists at Aubrey, me, your dad, but please, Bec, open your arms for you.”

Beca silently stared at their still intertwined hands, the tips of Chloe’s fingers hooked around hers. Chloe kept smiling, a visibly toned down version of the usual one, but filled with the exact same love she always shared.

They didn’t say anything more. They both knew it would ruin the song they just made.

That night Beca did two things.

She texted her dad to let him know she wanted to take him up on his offer. Not for him, but for herself.

And, as she fell asleep listening to Titanium, she realized true love came in many forms, and maybe one day she was going to feel ready to find out what Chloe’s version was.


End file.
